Thought I’d burnt it all;
Every love note memory.
How can there be more?!
Was reading about dry drowning
And I suddenly was four.
Remembering my mother’s hypervigilance surrounding me
“It only takes a teaspoon to drown!”
And this led to my flooded warren…
My Piscean draw to the moon
Sand and waves
My mermaidian desires
How it wasn’t her android pelvis holding me back
But my fear of leaving the amniotic
Funny now, I think of it.
How we need the water
We’re 75% or something
(Same as the earth herself)
But she refused to let us wear seat belts,
Because if we wrecked in the drink, we’d drown.
She was so scared of water.
Never did learn how to swim
Except for underneath
And strangely, she never did come up,
To surface so she died:
In the life giving force we need
And instilled the fear
But it only made me want it more
Then the thoughts, they jumped to you.
The cliffs we slid down in winter,
And the irony of the ocean that day
Your ass hitting the ice,
A frozen attempt at life
You lost me in the sea grass
But climbed a tree to scout me a path.
I’m not hydrophobic anymore.
Like that imperfect bookshelf that your mother loves,
I love you.
Somehow it’s less about changing who you are and more about disregarding those pieces…
You think cannot be loved
Or made whole.
While you reconcile,
I quietly support
The day you love yourself.
And it’s only now, that I get it.
Naivety and overconfidence. What a combo.
What though the radiance which was once so bright
Be now for ever taken from my sight,
Though nothing can bring back the hour
Of splendour in the grass,
of glory in the flower,
We will grieve not, rather find
Strength in what remains behind;
In the primal sympathy
Which having been must ever be;
In the soothing thoughts that spring
Out of human suffering;
In the faith that looks through death,
In years that bring the philosophic mind.
~ William Wordsworth
And I performed all the rituals;
To excise you from my being:
I said the words, I sang the songs,
I burned the poppets, offerings, and herbs.
The vernal equinox brought forlorn surrender
With all my naked tears,
thrown at the ocean.
Midsummer brought quiet understanding
Still the skyclad blood dance was all for naught.
Acceptance turned to woken realization,
The exorcism had not uncleaved…
My self imposed division.
The queen of cups,
The knight of swords,
Time brought on the autumnal passing.
Themes of knowledge and woe,
Of things that cannot be unsaid, unknown.
Samhain a solemn reminder,
Of the work remaining to be done.
The full moon purge,
The blessings be,
The earth is coming full circle.
Rain can bring things back to life…
Rain can also drown them.
All power is an illusion…
Yet energy exchanged freely is tangible.
“Love” can be an adverb, a noun, a verb;
it’s really just like “Fuck.”
Hope can be a welcome gift…
She can and will, also fool you.
One commits to seeing it through,
the other remains righteously based in fear.
A secret can encourage alliances,
concurrently it feeds into concern.
Sunshine is what allows all life,
but the sun can cause also cancer.
Chemo is a curative,
while simultaneously it poisons the body.
Intimacy is not to be forsaken,
dismissed for the idea of “What if..”
Regret can turn to reflection…
Reflection can change your reality.
Emotion influences logic,
logic without emotion is cold.
Opening Pandora’s box gave knowledge and insight,
wisdom not always appreciated.
Patience is a virtue,
but one that can quickly grow sour.
Bitter on the tongue of the confused,
waiting to be swallowed hard by the word…